Story Book Family
by Iced tears
Summary: What is life really like for Hermione when she’s not at Hogwarts? A small look into her personal affairs. Her not so story book family… R&R Rated:T


Disclaimer: I own nothing, sadly it all belongs to J.K. Rolling.

AN: okay here is the story It's actually what my life at home is like but I thought that I could tweak it a little bit and make it Hermione's secret home life. Enjoy!!

Summary: What is life really like for Hermione when she's not at Hogwarts? A small look into her personal affairs. R&R Rated:T to be safe.

**A Story-book Family**

At first glance my family seems to be taken from a story-book. The loving, stay-home mother, the father with a job to provide for the family, two older brothers who rough-house, and joke around, and me, the little sister, who does everything she's told and reprimands her brother's behavior. Although, if you stop and take the time to look a little closer you'll see that we aren't what we appear. We are ripping apart at the seams; all because of one person, my father.

My father is a great actor, when we are with friends or family, he plays his role perfectly. The only way other members of the family know about the things he does, or sometimes doesn't do, is when they are around nearly constantly. To say that my dad is a jerk behind the scenes is an understatement. He's done many things to make the rest of the family angry with him.

My father's job requires him to go on business trips. Usually to México. Last year he had announced that he was to go on his longest trip yet; he would be gone for three and a half weeks. When we heard this my mother and I shared a knowing look. Now, we are thankful for the break from him that they would provide us with.

After he's announced he'd be going away he's gone in his room the change, and that was all that was spoken of it that night. He was leaving Sunday and until then he was off work in order for him to get ready for the trip; this was the only part tat I dreaded about my father's trip.

Sunday rolled around and, naturally, I'd slept in. When I'd got up I looked over to my clock, it read on o'clock pm. After all my senses had followed me out of my sleep induced haze, I heard my mom asking my father if he needed anything else washed for the trip that night. By the time I'd gotten out of bed, I still hadn't heard my father's reply. My mom was asking him again when I opened the door. I'd given her a questioning look and all she did was roll her eyes. I listened and I heard a male noise coming from the TV. I've learned from hearing him so often that it was the announcer for foot-Ball; he was saying that they were taking a 'short commercial break'. Only then did my father's reply come.

"Uh…no, I don't think so," was his removed reply. With this my mom became irritated

"Well would you mind making sure?" the way my mom said this, you could tell that she was impatient.

"Sure," my father grunted , as he got up form his seat; standing there to watch the end of the commercial and walked dejectedly past us into his room.

In his room he turned the T.V. on and glanced though his hamper. He walked out shortly after and sat down to watch the T.V. in the front-room again.

"Well?" my mom said expectantly.

"No," was the short and rude answer from my father.

My mom looked at me with a sad smile and I sighed and nodded, going into my father's room and turning the light and TV. Off.

Later that night I sat at the table doing my homework, due Monday, as my mom and my father finished packing his things. It was nearly time for the to leave to go to the airport. He had things and they were walking our the door. My father was waling out the screen door and my mom turned to me.

"Bye, Hermione. I'll be back after I drop dad off at the airport. Love you, be good," was my farewell.

My father looked back then said, "Bye, Hermione. Love you."

"Bye Guys. Love you too! See ya' in three weeks dad," was my falsely sweet reply.

My mom gave me a smile and I returned it, just as sincere.

By then I'd gotten used to my father taking no interest in my life, or the life of those around me. Sure he's gone to my orchestra and choir concerts, some _Meet the Teacher _nights when I was still going to my muggle school, but he never seemed interested in them. Sometimes though when my youngest brother and I were at each other's throats, he was very involved; involved with taking my brother's side and giving me a punishment that is. On many occasions my mom has had to take my side, then my brother would complain about her always on my side. When he did she'd look him in the eye and say, "Well I have to make it even, don't I?" and that was all she would say about it.

My father is thoughtless, and is a chauvinistic pig. When my youngest brother was taking his dog for a walk, accompanied by his two friends: the dog had gotten sprayed by a skunk. They brought him home quickly to try and get the stink off of him as fast as we could. My mom had one of his friends run out to get tomato juice to get the smell our of his fur. We took the dog into the back yard and poured the juice over him. My aunt came over to see if she could do anything to help us out. While we were lathering the dog up, my father was sitting in front of the TV. Watching golf, and trying to be funny. Making jokes about the dog's predicament to my aunt, since we didn't let her help because se was sick. My mom was helping me, my brother and his friends, with washing the dog.

While my mom was on her hands-and-knees with us, my aunt kept asking if she was okay, because she had bad knees. Not once did my father ask is she was okay, or if he could do anything to help out.

After the dog was nearly stink-free, my younger brother carried him through the house, and into the bathroom. When the rest of the family was parading through the house, my father kept his eyes glued to the TV. Like we were non-existent. It was a school night and it was getting late when my mother sent me to bed, in order to get up in the morning.

My father lost all respect I held for him long ago, and he has done nothing to gain it again.

I would actually like to thank my father for what he has shown me that another's actions can really hurt someone, it doesn't have to be name calling, or poking fun of, but it can still hurt someone. He's helped me figure out who I want to be as a person, and now I strive to be that person I want to be, the person I am today. For that, I do thank him.


End file.
